Merope Gaunt
by lisa.procter.182
Summary: The beginning of the end for Merope.


There he was, the Riddle boy. Oh he was magnificent, as handsome as they come. I wish - but then my wishes don't come true. They never come true.  
Í watched him, hidden in the shadows so I wouldn't be seen. People didn't like to look at me, and I couldn't blame them. Our once regal family had been ruined by narrow-mindedness and now I was the product of too much inbreeding, just to keep our pure blood status. The wizarding world thought me ugly, and well, there was no arguing with that, I had seen my face, my features. There was no beauty about me. They also thought me stupid, a squib with no magically talent, but that was where they were wrong.

Little did they know that without my father and brother here to put me down, I had flourished. My magic was stronger than it had ever been, and it was this knowledge that had given me the conviction that what I was about to do would not only work, but would change my life for the better.  
They both knew I was in love with the muggle boy, infatuated as they said and they ridiculed me, told me he would never want me. They were right of course, he had only ever looked on me once, and it was a look of contempt. I couldn't blame him and I had accepted it was my intention to leave it at that, love him from a far and help out when I could with the magic I had been blessed with.  
And then I saw him with her, the girl he was promised to. She was the exact opposite of me, tall and statuesque, bright shiny blonde hair falling down her back in a cascade of waves. Her face looked as though it had been carved by angels, perfectly proportioned and exquisitely beautiful. For the first time in my life, I felt real jealousy. Like nothing I had felt before, it boiled my blood, and left a hollow feeling in my stomach. Without realising it, the plan had already formed in my head and I found myself brewing a powerful love potion only hours later.

The next day, I snuck in to a local pub. No one paid me much notice, they never did and so it was easy enough for me to make my way over to where young Tom Riddle was laughing with his friends. They were celebrating Toms luck at being promised such a lovely young lady. I ignored their banter and lewd comments, instead concentrating on spiking his drink with my potion.  
Once the deed was done, I hurried from the pub and peered through the dusty window. I watched with butterflies in my stomach as Tom lifted his goblet to his lips and took a gulp. With a sigh of relief, I relaxed. It was only a matter of time now.

*

Tom Riddle had never felt this way before, his heart swelled as he looked out of the murky windows of the small pub he was sitting in with his friends. He was sure he had seen her, but when he strained his eyes she was no where to be seen.  
"You're one lucky son of a gun," one of his friends said slapping him on his back.  
"Yeah. Yeah I am," he replied. "I'm sorry men, but I have to see her. I'll see you later." Tom finished his drink in a gulp and left the pub amid cheers and wolf whistling. He turned and grinned at his friends but as soon as the door shut behind him, his mind only had one direction.  
Merope Gaunt.

As he headed to the small shack where her family stayed, he tried to recall any time he had actually seen her, spoken to her but his mind was drawing blanks and it didn't make sense to him why he was so consumed by her being now. But it wasn't something he could deny or argue with. He needed her. An urgency he didn't recognise pushed him forward, his feet smacking against the gravel path as he picked up the pace, eventually breaking out in to a run. His mind was racing as he ran. She must meet his parents so they could be married at once, a small intimate wedding, just friends and family. Or maybe big. So he could show of his bride to the world. Yeah, big. And then he was there, her door. He straightened his clothes, took a deep breath and knocked gently.

*

My heart was racing a mile a minute. I had ran from the pub to the house I had share with my father and brother and had only a few minutes to straighten up when he had knocked gently on the door. I took a deep nervous gulp of air and opened the door. There he was. I let my breath exhale slowly in utter shock. He was the most perfect man on the planet and he was looking at me like he had died and gone to heaven.

"Merope?" He asked. Even my name sounded better coming from his mouth. He sighed and it washed over me like a caress. He was really here, and he was here for me.  
With a dazed look in his eyes, he stepped forward in to the shack and I mirrored his movements, backing up until I fell against the wall. I was suddenly scared, I had gotten everything I had wanted and it all seemed too easy. He was looking at me as though he had never seen a woman before, or more so that he had never seen a woman like me before. Which in all honesty, he hadn't. I wasn't worthy of a man so beautiful.

"Oh Merope," he whispered, his hand caressing the side of my face. "So beautiful." He dipped his head and brushed his lips against mine, kissing me deeply.  
The magic of that first kiss was more powerful than all the magic of the most powerful wizards combined. I was swept up in the passion, and right then I really did feel like the most beautiful girl in the world. Like I mattered.  
Like I was loved.

*One Year Later*

"Bewitched! Mother, Father, how could you let me marry such an abomination. How could you let me touch her. She has my child in her belly, my child!" I watched from the window, a borrowed invisibility cloak hiding me. The novelty item was already failing, a vague impression of my reflection staring back at me from the window.

After a year of magic, I had decided it was time to let Tom free. I was convinced he really did love me. For how could someone show another person that much kindness, that much tenderness? My tummy was a swollen ball of love, a testament to how he cared for me.  
Or so I thought.

So strong was my conviction, I felt no nerves as a whispered an enchantment to lift the power of the love potion. I held his hands, an looked in to his eyes and saw the love shining back. And then all too soon it changed. His expression went from adoration, to confusion, to disgust and in that heart wrenching moment, I realised he didn't love me. He couldn't love me without the power of a spell. How foolish I was.

He said no words, just pulled his hands from mine and fled. I stared at the empty space where he had stood, tears swimming in my eyes as our child fluttered inside me. I was numb all over, shocked to my very core. And then I followed him, heading to the only place I knew he would go. To his parents.  
And so that was where I now stood, listening to his hateful words, silently crying to myself. I watched as he shivered with repulsion, and decided that was enough. With one last look at my dream, I turned and walked though the village not caring where I ended up.

As I wandered aimlessly a realisation hit me. My baby would have no father, and on my own, I had no means of caring for it correctly. It was better of without me, the same as everyone else. I needed to find the baby a home, one where it would flourish.

And so I walked, searching. I sold everything I had with me for food and shelter, including fathers ring with our great ancestor's signature. Salazar Slytherin. Oh what he would have to say about my pathetic form now.

I didn't get anywhere near what it was worth, but I neither had the energy or the will to haggle. I took what I could and ate only to feed my unborn child. My stomach had started to twinge with pain, contracting until it was a tight ball of pain. I ignored it, walking. Forever walking.

After what seemed a lifetime, exhaustion slowly killing my body, I stumbled against the door of an orphanage. My stomach convulsed in pain and I screamed. Hurried footsteps banged against floorboards behind the door and I listened as they drew closer.  
"Please! My baby, he's coming!" I screamed through the pain as an overwhelming desire to push hit me. The door was opened with a burst of light and a panicked cry. Help, I had help.  
"Shall we move her?" One voice said.  
"No time," another replied. The voices were faint as I felt my consciousness swim.  
I had no sense of time, no idea what was happening. All I was aware of was pain, and a persistent voice telling me to push. And then emptiness I didn't expect to feel, followed by an infants cry.

"A boy, he's a boy!" Someone exclaimed, placing the infant on my chest. I looked down at his pretty features and instantly fell in love. But he could never love me. A woman so pathetic, she tricked his father and left him an orphan.  
"His name is Tom," I said weakly. "After his Papa. Marvolo, after mine. Tom Marvolo Riddle." I smiled as it rolled of my tongue, looking down in to the eyes of my son. It suited him.  
"A strange name Marvolo," a matron whispered to me. She was trying to distract me; there was whisperings around me, worried voices. And it occured to me that my body was weakening.  
"She's losing too much blood. She's not going to make it," One of the woman whispered.

And that was that, confirmed. I was dying. My wand was lying just in the folds of my robes, I could save my life. Be the mother my little Tom needed. I made as though to reach for my wand and then looked down at my perfect baby.

There was nothing I could give him. Raised in a family like mine, he would amount to nothing. Be a no one. He would see his father, and not know it was him. He was worth more than that. Better he imagine his parents had loved each other, and circumstances beyond our control had separated us from him.

The women here would raise him, keep him safe, and teach him right from wrong. Give him the care and guidance I couldn't. And one day, wizard or muggle, he would become a great man. Yes much better he stayed here.

I felt him shuffling on my chest, his small mouth finding my breast. He suckled gently and my eyes filled with tears, knowing this would be the last time this would ever happen. The women of the orphanage fussed around us, lifting my head to give me water, covering us both in a blanket. As he suckled, the world swam, as though he was literally sucking the life from me.  
All too soon our time together would be over.  
"I hope he looks like his papa," I whispered to no one in particular, my eyes closing.

So here it was, death.  
Live well Tom, and be the best you can be.

The boy was lifted from the dead girl's body, wrapped in blankets. He screamed for his mama the moment they lifted him and the hardened hearts of the matrons broke for the poor boy that had no one and the pathetic girl who couldn't find the strength to live for her son.


End file.
